Review of Lost Traditions by Claudie Arseneault

Spotlight on Keza, and I couldn’t be happier. I love her irascibility as a cover for her loneliness and trauma. Claudie Arseneault’s talent for assembling an ensemble cast of complementary characters is one of the strengths of Chronicles of Nerezia. Now, in Lost Traditions, we get a close-up on Keza and some of her concerns. I received an eARC in exchange for a review.

The Wagon crew are nearing their destination and hoping—Aliyah most of all—that it will provide answers. Yet when Keza notices blooming flowers associated with guiding her people, she and Horace strike out on a side quest, which brings them to an abandoned monastery that raises more questions than answers. A Fragment possesses Horace out of desperation to pass on their traditions to Keza, who reluctantly agrees to become a student to save Horace’s life. She is far from an ideal student, however, and her teacher is far from an ideal instructor.

This entry of the series feels very different from the last one, for the focus is so squarely on Keza and Horace (and mostly Keza). It’s a tight, deeply personal story that lets Keza shine—but if you have become accustomed to the wider cast of these chronicles, you might find yourself missing them a lot.

This story is in some ways a sequel to Flooded Secrets, except Keza in that story was less of a viewpoint character and more of a cipher. Here, we learn more about her society and how she grew up—and especially, what she left behind. All of the Wagon crew are, in one way or another, wanderers and exiles. They have all left things behind—painfully—and are looking for something else. What they’ve found, of course, is family.

Interestingly, what I thought of while reading Keza’s story here is the experience of a refugee. Keza faces incredible pressure to preserve the traditions of this lost people. At the same time, as she herself points out, these people are gone. In this way, she’s facing a dilemma similar to one I imagine refugees and immigrants more broadly often face: in diaspora, maintaining traditions can be challenging, and even those that are preserved tend to change over time. That’s what we see happening here; Keza’s blending of Mountain and Water styles is a heterodox fusion—and it is very her.

At the same time, Horace’s sacrifice of self for Keza is very on-brand with our lovable embo. E has come such a long way since Trenaze, and even though e isn’t present much in this story, eir presence seems to suffuse it. Horace is the perfect foil for Keza on this journey of self-discovery and reflection. As much as this is a story about preserving lost traditions, I think the title has a double meaning: it is also speaking to the loss Keza has suffered by leaving behind her people. As she points out to Horace, she can’t exactly ask Rumi and the Wagon to turn around now, and even if she does return to her village one day, there’s no promise she will be welcome. Hearing her recount what she has lost is truly heartbreaking, and there is a vulnerability to Keza here that we haven’t seen before.

The most smartass characters are often the ones most compensating for their soft, sensitive sides—and Keza is no exception here. Arseneault has produced a careful, considerate character study. I love how each member of the Wagon crew has been given a chance in the spotlight before we reach the climax of this series. With only two books to go, I’m on the edge of my seat.